The Pont d’Arcole in front of Hotel de Ville. Winter has arrived in Paris, chilling the fear, and little by little the streets are being lined with holiday lights.
Paris-based photographer Danielle Voirin travels the world and documents her experiences in photographs. She takes street photography and photojournalism a shade beyond even art, to the level of mysticism. You may see more of her work on her website DanielleVoirin.com, or her alt website, DaniVoirin.com.
“Nothing spoils tomorrow more surely than fear of it.” — Len Wallick
Never were more truer words said than what our colleague Len Wallick wrote in his Friday column. From the Mayor of Roanoke, Virginia to the 47 Congressional Democrats who broke against the president and voted with Republicans to place a moratorium on accepting a modest number of Syrian refugees — 10,000 women and children — we have become prey to the easy lie, denying a safer and more hopeful tomorrow for people escaping the terror of war.
It’s easy enough to get people who are only given a certain set of facts to believe a lie. Check out Donald Trump’s tweet: “Eight Syrians were just caught on the southern border trying to get into the U.S. ISIS maybe? I told you so. WE NEED A BIG & BEAUTIFUL WALL!”
What his 130-character summation does not tell you is that members of two Syrian families presented themselves to authorities at the Department of Homeland Security at the Southern Border. The women and children were taken to a family residential center while the men were transferred to a detention center, DHS said.
But because of our terror of ISIS, Syrians, Muslims, and the ghost of 9-11, our minds cannot absorb facts, and so when a lie is repeated, again and again, in various forms and variations, the surface gloss of an innuendo-loaded statement becomes solid evidence. See how easy and dangerous that is?
But we’re not only failing these war refugees. By the very truths that we hold dear, by the very foundation upon which this country was built, we’re failing ourselves. As best said in an editorial in The Cincinnati Enquirer:
The selective nature of the proposed moratorium — targeting refugees from only one country — is also troubling because there’s no confirmed, direct link between Syrian refugees and the Paris attacks. All the suspects identified so far hailed from France or Belgium. The call to block Syrian refugees is being made despite the evidence, not because of it. […]
Our refugee resettlement program — yes, even for Syrians — represents a core American value, one that reflects and continues our identity as a melting pot. We are a country founded and fueled by immigrants. We are a nation powered by the proposition that we value oppressed people — of all colors and creeds — who seek shelter.
I began last weekend heartsick with the familiar ring of politics ginning up people’s fears. When will we ever learn? It wasn’t helpful that the Republican presidential candidates used the refugee moratorium to rev up even more xenophobia on the stump, winning the news cycle in tandem with their Congressional compatriots. All we need right now is another fear-based political campaign to hoist a demagogue into the White House.
I have been tired of this since 2003, as are most of the people in my community in the San Francisco Bay Area. Yes I know we’re not middle America, and by all measures the view of us — correct or not — is that we are crypto-liberal extremists too willing to sell the country out to the Communists. Whatever. But throwing my shoe at a CNN news reporter on television was not going to help. Neither was yelling at the car radio on my commute home. My anger was nourished by the fear.
I tried to put my mind’s focus on other things this weekend: going to a play on Friday; and on Saturday, catering for the artists at the International Body Music mini-fest at Berkeley’s traditional music institution, Freight and Salvage.
There were forty artists, all “hyphen-Americans” representing various cultures — African-American, Mexican-American, Eastern European-American, and East Indian-American — representatives of the society that we have become. Pieces of our American multi-ethnic fabric. It was an evening of percussive, jazz, dance and traditional music all done without instruments.
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After our pre-show meal everyone circled up to be together before curtain. The house was packed. As the Festival’s co-director Evie Ladin said: “The world is in a shit storm right now, and the people out there need us to lift them up.”
People were looking for the same kind of relief I was from the last week’s xenophobia and each and every one of the artists stepped up. No one held anything back.
The finale was a gathering of all artists from their various ethnic traditions leading the audience out of the auditorium into the lobby for a wide open celebration of clapping, stomping and chanting for the audience and the artists. There was nothing but smiles in that lobby. The show was medicine.
Looking back now, this show was a living snapshot of what our core American values are and what the Cincinnati Examiner editorial referred to: inclusion and appreciation of the differences and similarities of our human experience on this planet. We’re all in one country that is a part of this one world.
I told my best friend Rhodessa about the show. As of right now she is flying east for Thanksgiving to visit her family in Georgia. Before she left to get on the plane, she said to me the same thing Evie said: “The world is in an uproar. Time now to give our friends, family and community our best and with love.”
We have so much to be thankful for: we’re safe, definitely food-secure, and we have a community of friends and family to help us shoulder our burdens and re-assure us with love and support. For us, the only war going on right now is for our minds and hearts to believe in a fear that could not only spoil, but end tomorrow. Even with that we can choose not to play.
When we open our mouths to pray in thanks this week, let’s work to open minds and hearts as well — ours and others. Love, fear and lies don’t mix. Love cannot exist with lies and fear cannot exist with love. Love conquers them both. Easily.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Small pool of water on the coast of Halsnoy, a Norwegian island near the opening of the Hardangerfjord.
Paris-based photographer Danielle Voirin travels the world and documents her experiences in photographs. She takes street photography and photojournalism a shade beyond even art, to the level of mysticism. You may see more of her work on her website DanielleVoirin.com, or her alt website, DaniVoirin.com.
By Amanda Painter
We have a busy week astrologically, and in the U.S., it’s also a major holiday week: Thanksgiving Day is Thursday. With a strong orientation on gathering with family, it can be just as stressful, triggering or lonely as it can be joyful, warm and inclusive — depending on factors such as whether or not you have people to celebrate with; whether you share common values with those people; the degree of obligation and adherence to tradition (or flexibility) expected; and so on.
Jim Henson’s Muppets parody Norman Rockwell’s classic 1943 Thanksgiving painting, formally titled Freedom From Want.
It can be a really beautiful day spent in spirit of gratitude for shared blessings. Whether you’re in the U.S. or not, I hope your life is touched by some of that essence.
Additionally, if you are estranged from family and friends, or ill, or otherwise alone and wish not to be, I hope you’ll join the conversation here, and reach out connect with your immediate community where you are. There are resources out there, and there’s often a local food bank, church or other group putting on a dinner who would love to have your volunteer help.
I also can’t help but think of how many people are fretting about cooking things ahead of time; or bracing for maddening travel (the day before Thanksgiving is the busiest travel day of the year here); or steeling themselves for uncomfortable dinner conversations with relatives whose political views are diametrically opposed to their own; or squeezing in an extra therapy session to remind themselves that they really are a functional adult, before stepping back into familial dysfunction.
Luckily, the Sun entered Sagittarius Sunday at 10:25 am EST (15:25 UTC), granting some optimism and, hopefully, a better sense of ‘the big picture’.
One thing you might find yourself grateful for (goddess knows I am), is that most of this week’s major aspects will be exact just before the big day. They’ll still be in effect for the most part, and if you are traveling on Wednesday or doing a lot of prep work, these aspects could make things a little more interesting. But overall, it looks like several of the events emphasizing tension and polarity will be separating long before the turkey comes out of the oven.
By Sarah Taylor
I have a feeling that the energy of the cards — especially the Knight of Wands — has a significant hand in a strong feeling of power that courses through me when I take in this week’s reading. I look at all three solitary figures, one in each card, and they are looking at me directly. No bullshit. Down to business.
The Chariot, The Magus, Knight of Wands from The Röhrig Tarot deck, created by Carl-W. Röhrig. Click on the image for a larger version.
Even the visored figure in The Chariot (who I will refer to as a “he,” taking his gender from other versions of the card) is revving his engine and facing me down.
The next thing I invite you to notice are the colours. Look at the three cards together, specifically the similarities between the left and centre card (The Chariot and The Magus), and their contrast with the third.
The Chariot and The Magus are Major Arcana cards, and early ones at that: cards 7 and 1, respectively. These are cards of self-definition, primarily about who we are on the individual level. As we shift through the Majors, we shift from self-definition into change and crisis and transformation, and arrive the other end seeing ourselves as part of the collective.
Here in this reading, though, we are concerned with questions such as “Who am I?” and “Where am I going?” and “What do I stand for?” This is borne out by the third card — but more on that later.
So, back to the colours of these two first cards: cool blues and blacks and feathered light. The star reflected in the visor of the charioteer is the light that burns from the crown of The Magus.
The Chariot is that part of you that is on the move, directed, focused intently on your own becoming. You head towards that one thing — that thing that is simultaneously drawing you towards it. Obviously, that thing is a part of you that you have yet to meet. And it seems obvious here that you have been homing in on an aspect of yourself that you’ve been in the process of defining. You may not have been able to articulate what it was, but boy have you been feeling it calling to you. It has been nothing short of magnetic.
That’s Mercury, The Magus, The Magician. The aspect of you who is able to create and work magic, to communicate deftly with your higher wisdom and to bridge the world of spirit and matter. It has been calling to you. And you listened: or a part of you did. It donned its crash-helmet (these kinds of journeys can be risky, as you know), jumped into its Formula 1 racing car, and sped off, following a star. Much like the Magi in that well-known New Testament story that many people celebrate next month.
You have been a Magus-in-waiting following a star. Following a star to yourself. You crossed lands, deserts, familiar neighbourhood hangouts, and strange, perhaps frightening, terrain to come to a place where The Magus sits opposite you, looking you in the eye, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips.
The Magus as an emerging aspect of you, looking at you, the seeker — the one who has been searching for such a long time. And the funny thing is that he doesn’t seem remotely surprised to find you here with him.
“Glad you could come around. I have been waiting for you forever. What next adventure are we going to go on, you and I?”
Well, the Knight, of course! He is your next adventure. While The Chariot and The Magus represent the story that has been happening inside you, and behind the scenes, the Knight of Wands is the outer expression of that story. And so back to the colours, because now we have shifted from blues and starlight to reds and fire. This is far more visceral; this is hot!
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How you are bringing this new, magical aspect of yourself into this world is through the flames of the individuated, fiery masculine. What does that mean, you ask? It means that you mean business.
You’re not going to sit back and let the same things pass you by that you did before. You’re not going to give yourself anything less than a high-octane boost — much like the boost it took for The Chariot to meet up with The Magus, except this time you’re going to feel it in your body: in the pit of your belly, that fire will burn. It is drive, it is zest, it is no-holds-barred action.
What are you going to do with this fire? That’s up to you, but I can give you a few pointers.
Two Majors associated with self-definition. One Court Card that embodies the ultimate in active self-definition. No excuses. Not that you’re inclined to make them any more. You have work to do.
Astrology/Elemental correspondences: The Chariot (Cancer), The Magus (Mercury), Knight of Wands (the fiery aspect of fire)
If you want to experiment with tarot cards and don’t have any, we provide a free tarot spread generator using the Celtic Wings spread, which is based on the traditional Celtic Cross spread. This article explains how to use the spread.
There have definitely been events in the past week or so that beg some questions about spirituality — in the form of religion in particular. This being a column about spirituality, I’ve definitely been begging my own questions about where I am with it all and what I might have to say about more ‘terrorist’ attacks and a world gone mad.
Photo by graywacke/A Landing a Day
But here’s the thing: I’m entirely disconnected from it. For better or worse, I am entirely unengaged with the world stage.
I know I’ve been in this spot before. Hell, I know I’ve written about it here before. I have made choices to largely stay out of world events and politics, although I do my best to tune into events at the local level. I also know that my version of disengagement is still better informed than many people’s version of engagement. This round, however, I am actively choosing not to read or watch.
It is all so far beyond surreal at this point — more attacks? More rhetoric? More crazy, overblown and idiotic responses from conservative America? Paying attention to it grates on every aspect of my being. I’ve hung out with several highly intelligent, heart-centered, genuinely concerned and well-informed friends this week, and when they start talking about Paris or Beirut every alarm goes off in my body. Nails on a chalkboard.
My inner voices — the most grounded, sensible and trustworthy of them – say: don’t listen, don’t go there, it’s all false, don’t fall into it. I see ‘conspiracy’ theories and discussion of it being a false flag event, and the voices say something along the lines of: Duh. But don’t go there. Don’t engage.
I wonder occasionally if that isn’t the sign of dissociation or avoidance. But the thing is — it’s not that the urge is to run away or block it out because it would be too much of a buzz kill or too overwhelming. The urge is to stay clear of what feels to me like a chainmail shroud of lies and deceit. My urge is to hug and love and continue working with people one-on-one and do anything I can to counteract the heavy, grating falsity of it all.
But how can all of that suffering be false? What kind of privilege leads me to ignore and reject in such a way? I know that my work here on this Earth is to hold space for grief, trauma and transformation. I also know that my work here is to anchor love and light. There is a flux between the two within my inner world.
The fact of the matter is that my life feels so good right now. Energy is finally moving, optimism is shining brightly, and things are happening personally and professionally that are exhilarating and affirming. The need to stay planted firmly in that and to be present with it feels like a mandate. But again — what if I’m just avoiding? Or being narcissistic?
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Does that even matter? I’m sure it does in some ways. The intense disconnect between world events and my own existence creates a dissonance, but I’m only intellectually aware of that. I don’t feel the dissonance right now.
The only dissonance I have felt is really in how often I am having the urge to rub people’s backs right between the shoulder blades, softly loving the heart space, telling our wounded, fearful hearts that it’s going to be ok.
This is not always appropriate behavior, given that sometimes the urge is occurring with people I barely know. I’ve taken this past week to just coming out and asking if I can do that when I feel the need to hold that heart space. Someone remarked to me last night that it felt like I was actually massaging their heart. I asked if that was OK and they said it felt amazing. It felt amazing to me, too.
There is so much sadness and suffering and madness in the world. There has been for such a long time. My heart often feels all of it at sometimes blistering and unbearable levels. I’ve also noticed that much of the time, when crisis seems to be amping up in the world at large, my heart can flood with love and hope. Perhaps it’s my own personal balancing act. I don’t know.
What I do know is that the Sun is shining today, and life feels golden and full of potential. I feel un-tethered in time and yet grounded. Perhaps phases like this allow for some stockpiling of love and light so that when the personal cycle turns again, there is something to look back on and something to look forward to. I hope that wherever you are in this process you can take a few moments to breathe and slow it down, finding some solace in the quiet, and finding space to feel a little of whatever it is that makes your heart feel calm or happy.
Note: We’ve featured relationship coach Blair Glaser’s posts about using leadership skills in relationships a few times now (here, and more here). You may find this article applies to all kinds of relationships — including with your animal friends. — Amanda P.
A little while ago I crossed paths with the most gorgeous, good natured, collarless puppy. I named him Brad Pitt-Bull and took him home. He was very friendly and well-behaved for a three-month old pup. Pit Bulls have scary reputations, but this little guy followed me around everywhere, obeyed all my commands, and waited for the chance to shower me with kisses, snuggle in my lap and fall asleep.
Blair Glaser
I talked to my “in the know” dog friends and learned that as a stray, I would have to test him. Good with other people? Check. Good with kids? Check. Good with food? After a few days of puppy love, I gave him a bone to chew on. When I tried to take the bone from him, he growled at me; a fierce, menacing growl. It was shocking and alarming: It was almost a feeling of betrayal. I clumsily tried to re-establish authority but was too startled and rattled by the Jekyll and Hyde-ness of the moment.
After I recovered, I looked into accepting all parts of the dog I was choosing to love, as I would do with a person. After all, he had been starving and probably had to fight for food. Apparently “food aggression,” the name for his condition, could be corrected easily with a little time and effort.
I felt nervous and excited that I was being challenged to step into a new level of leadership and calm authority. But unfortunately, I could not get over the somewhat irrational fear that this little ball of love could hurt me, and might one day be a big (his feet were huge — the vet predicted ninety pounds!) scary canine with a mouth that could kill. As my fear grew, so did his growling, until one episode when I anxiously attempted to train him not to growl, it exploded. The growling and barking got so out of control, I stepped away in fear, and we both lost. I had to admit to myself that I am not and probably would never be the Dog Whisperer. I had found my limit: I could not live with a being I felt physically threatened by.
I felt relieved, but also saddened, so I went to a local music venue to get my mind off of the loss and the nagging sense of failure. I bumped into an acquaintance and her aunt. “You came alone?” she asked, with seeming fascination. “That’s amazing,” she said with admitted envy. “I don’t think I could do that.” While she pondered her limits of social engagement, I felt a little better about my limitations with my new short-lived best friend. Limits — I was reminded– everyone has them.
Limitations can be a blessing, and a tough thing to reckon with, especially in the face of the New Age theory that we have none. Some are easier to detect than others. If I decided today I wanted to be a professional ballet dancer, with my age, body type and physical issues, it wouldn’t happen — even if I could somehow drop my job and train for hours each day, I would never “make it” in a traditional sense. In a more realistic and challenging example, I recently counseled a woman who was struggling with the idea of having a second child, which her husband wanted. After deep contemplation, she acknowledged that at her age, with all the things she wanted to do, and with her hands full with her first born, her energy was limited and she decided to not get pregnant again.
While it can be difficult to acknowledge our own, limitations can be harder to deal with in others — coming up against people’s inability to listen, show-up or meet our needs in some essential way. The great thing about limitations is that they invite us into the true spiritual work of acceptance, and offer us the wonder of working within them. If we weren’t limited, we would not need each other. Understanding and accepting the limitations within yourself and others makes yourself available for connection, and for responsible and healthy living. It requires you to ask for the help you need, encourages you to use discernment in relationships, and prevents you from expecting too much from others and pressuring them to deliver beyond their capacity.
The Limits Test
How do you know the difference between a limit and an edge? An edge is something that you know you need to grow beyond to get to the next level you want to be at, even though you may feel fear and resistance. Sometimes you may feel excited or inspired by your edge, other times not at all, but inevitably, you keep being presented with the opportunity to move beyond it, and something, sometimes simply your discomfort with your comfort zone, propels you to move forward and through it, like it or not. When you have hit a limit — everything inside says no. Can limitations change? Sometimes. If you are short — you will always be. But if you are selfish, there is a chance that you could, with great effort and consistency, move beyond it.
Shop at the Right Store
You wouldn’t go to a liquor store to get butter, and you wouldn’t try to find a fine wine at your supermarket, either. Yet that is exactly what we do in relationships. If you keep feeling frustrated with a friend or partner about a certain behavior they cannot change, perhaps it is time that you acknowledge their limits. The truth may ultimately be that your limit is that you cannot live with their limitation(s). But keep in mind that it is fruitless to think that everyone one of your friends will meet your needs all the time. So get to know who people are and what you can expect from them. With friends, family and lovers, know what they are offering. Appreciate who they really are and celebrate the best in them by accessing what they have to offer.
Limit-Play
Find a concrete limit, such as your height, or a diagnosed physical handicap, such as a heart condition. Explore how the dimensions of this limit aid and hinder you. How does having this limit inform your vision of the world? What would life be like if you had different limitations?
De-personalize
When we are impacted negatively by another’s behavior, it can be important to let others know how their actions affect us. But so often we take our friends’ negligence too personally. Take a step back. Try to distinguish between the passive aggressive behavior we often read into things, and the limits of the person you are reckoning with. Imagine being in their body, with their story, pressures and habits. More often than not, we are dealing with a set of another’s limitations that hook into an old wound of our own, and exacerbate the feeling of discord. You may never be comfortable with another’s limits, but once you are aware of them, you can take responsibility for your reaction to them.
Community of Talented, Limited Beings
Open your eyes to how everyone’s talents and limitations create a sense of community. As a former city-girl who just became a homeowner, let’s just say that the scope of my knowledge and skill in home repair / improvement is vastly limited. I have a team of people I have collected to provide me with advice and service. Likewise, when those same people complain to me of their stressed personal relations, I have something to offer.
And remember, Love Yourself no matter what.
You can find out more information about Blair Glaser and her work at her website, www.blairglaser.com
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By Judith Gayle | Political Waves
Time flies, they say, and the past is just a loop of experience endlessly repeating until it comes to completion, hopefully defined in some life-affirming manner. Until then, we go over old patterns, ignoring their common thread, pretending the topic is new, reviewing essential fears and projecting them onto the usual suspects.
That’s true of our personal relationships as well as the political, the state of our unions as well as the state of our national union and beyond to our global unity.
While we seem destined to assume our adulthood at a snail’s pace, here in the land of the free and home of the brave, I was hoping never to hear the “why do they hate us?” question again, especially when the answer is so obvious.
I think it would be more productive to have a conversation about why we hate them — you know, our neighbors, as ourselves.
After all we’ve endured these last years, it’s something of a shock to read headlines that smack of turn-of-the-century hysteria, rhetorical déjà vu, threadbare and worn. Experienced by years of parsing actual and imagined terrors, I expected a modicum of nuance, something besides that old refrain about the homeland being threatened, swarthy foreigners presenting unwelcome danger to our freedom, all the while defended by tree-hugging liberals who hate American values.
That’s not for the lack of speaking calmly and slowly. The president has explained, over and over, how you can’t kill an idea, even a murderous one. You must correct it at its cause, and contain it until the fuel that feeds it is removed. He has made it clear that the xenophobic speech we use in assessing the challenge of Syrians seeking asylum only plays into the hands of the radicals, but — many of us radical ourselves — it falls on deaf ears.
Having aligned ourselves with the French, we won’t speak of Freedom Fries this time around, but despite all we’ve learned about ourselves and the world since 2003, we seem compelled to retreat from our better angels in times of peril. A mayor in Virginia has called for Syrian camps, reminding us that FDR interred Japanese citizens during perilous times, as if that was history in which we could take pride. We are urged to circle the wagons, to allow fear to dictate our terms. I do not like to think of us as herd animals but that’s all too often how we behave.
On the other hand, our growing understanding of nuance has clarified much of the argument, this time around. Our thin-skinned nativism, for instance — a historical preoccupation since we mugged the original inhabitants of the continent — is obvious in every attempt to turn back refugees or limit assistance to fleeing Syrians. Over half our state governors vow to refuse resettlement despite assurances of extensive vetting, and a group of House lawmakers, including several dozen Democrats who should know better, are making the prospect of safe sanctuary increasingly difficult. Shameful that we suddenly come to bipartisan agreement on a project so unworthy of our higher aspirations.
Yet despite the look of it and the feel of it, we recognize it for what it is, don’t we? A knee-jerk bias against anything unlike ourselves, a deep and abiding mistrust of strangers. But what will we do with that knowledge? How will we proceed with this moldy oldie War on Terror do-over? How will we do it differently this time, how will we push against the walls of our cultural conditioning and tribal prejudices to come to a new conclusion?
Any strong emotional moment reveals us to ourselves and to those around us. We can identify the political inclination of those who would trust but verify as opposed to those who would reject out of hand. Those in Murrieta, California who loudly– and hatefully — refused to accept a bus-load of immigrant children running from South American drug cartels are emblematic of those who reject Syrian refugees. The voices are strident but they are being countered by others, calmer and less fearful, and surely we’ve had enough practice with these darker emotions to recognize them as even more dangerous to our humanity than the perceived threat that prompts them.
Eckhart Tolle tells us that in order to cope with fear thoughts that explode into a paralyzing wave of existential terror and magnify our inner Chicken Little, we must stand back from dark thought-forms without inhabiting them. We must feel and witness them without making them more than transient. In Eastern thought these are “tigers stalking the jungle,” to be acknowledged but not awakened.
Tolle teaches that unless we are practicing the summoning of that inner presence — our authentic spiritual self — on ‘neutral’ days (when there is no threat evident) we become less and less able to stop the avalanche of fear thoughts, arising from our pain body, when fear arrives. Eckhart being Eckhart, he tells us that staying in the ‘now’ alleviates the projection of fear where there is none, and he’s right, of course, although that’s a lifetime’s work (and more.)
Still, unless we wish to live in a state of emergency, we must strive to remain centered and practice the presence, speak peace, extend kindness, and recognize every fearful moment as opportunity to overcome irrational fear. That same presence will inform us of genuine danger, should it arrive, but not if our adrenals are exhausted from false concerns and unnecessary stressors.
Be assured, my dears, we have everything we need. There are soothing voices we can turn to, those that affirm our common humanity, like those two timeless gurus, Mike Moore and the Dalai Lama. There are stalking tigers, unaware of themselves, to witness and send on their way. There is revelation to be discovered and compassion to be offered from moment to moment. Here in the thick of it, we must practice the presence and be the peaceful, rational energy that we wish to see all around us.